Don't judge me. I didn't know I was going to write this when I sat down this morning. I've just been watching a lot of Walking Dead recently and yeah. This happened.
Original female character.
Tried to keep it all in present tense. Aside from memories. PM me if I screwed up.
At Home - Crystal Fighters
Annie You Save Me - Graffiti6
Internet Killed the Video Star - The The Limousines
Burn - Ellie Goulding
Shout - Ida Redig
Just a Little Bit - Kids of '88
It isn't long after they're in the train car when there are more gunshots. Not many, a few pops and cracks and it is over. Rick's standing at the crack in the doorway when they hear the heavy footsteps of more than one man, and the raspy dragging sound of another person's feet pulled across the ground.
"Stand back," a voice orders. The sound of a gun cocking.
Grudgingly Rick moves back, Glenn and Maggie shift away. It visibly grates them.
Daryl's still sitting on the floor, back against one wall, brow furrowed, eyes on the opposite wall of the train car. They're all wondering who it is. Who the unlucky person is getting thrown in with them.
Someone from the prison?
A wanderer?
Doesn't matter, they're all in the same boat now.
The metal catch holding the door closed squeaks in rusty protest as it opens. The door slid open enough for one person, just one to fit through. They throw her in.
"Feck yeh too yeh feckin' bastards," she snarls at the floor, wiping her mouth of blood and saliva.
The door slides closed again, the lock tripping into place with another metallic cry.
Maggie almost sighs in relief, crouching down with Rick to help the woman up.
"Sarah," Glenn's voice is tight with emotion.
She gives him a half smile, only half because the other half of her face is a mottled series of bruises. She's limping, a tightness across her face from the pain but she hugs Rick and then Maggie anyway. Sasha gets a fist bump and Bob, a head nod. Carl, she steals his hat, plants a kiss on the top of his head that makes the boy redden in the dark. Michonne is the one lifting Sarah's shirt to see the damage.
"Your ribs might be broken," Michonne declares, hands gentle as she applies them to Sarahs' bruises.
"Tell meh somethin' ah don't already know," it's joke, Sarah tries to laugh but it turns into a hiss when Michonne moves her hands to press down on the Irish woman's back.
Daryl's not looking up. Not because he isn't relieved to see her, he is. He's happy she's alive. She's been with them since Atlanta. Irish chick, from Donegal she's told them time an' time again. Had the misfortune – her word – of takin' her semester abroad for independent study right before the world ended. He tips his head back and to the side, watchin' her hold Rick's hand as he helps her slide down the wall next to Daryl.
Rick's hand stays on hers too long for Daryl's liking. Ignoring his gut twisting is like ignoring a knife wound. Shit burns. He scowls darkly, looking away. Ain't a secret, Sarah an' Rick are friends. Maybe more than that though nobody knows for sure. Mostly just Carol an' a couple others speculatin' on the subject.
"Yer alive," Sarah's brogue is in his ear, her thigh pressed against his, her hip against his. She nudges him with her shoulder when he doesn't respond.
"Yeah," he's trying not to look at the mess her face is in. His knuckles itch to punch in the teeth of whoever did that. Daryl rubs one hand, easing the tension. "So 're you."
"Aye," she shifts trying to sit up more and fails. Her breath wooshes out in a pained sound. "Ah'm all messed up, but ah'm alive." Her head hits the wall behind them, dark blue eyes closed in pain. She presses her shoulder against his again, "How 'bout yeh? Lookin' okay, if ah do say."
Daryl shrugs, what's he supposed to say to that?
"Dixon," Sarah admonishes. He can feel her eyes on his face.
She's breathin' hard, must hurt to talk. Why's she wastin' her breath on him?
"Breathe though your nose," Daryl tells her, finally making himself look at her. She's lookin' back, one eye half swollen closed the other wide an' a deep blue. "Helps with the pain."
Sarah nods at him, her dry split lower lip movin' up at the corner.
Merle pointed her out to him their first day in the camp near Atlanta. Told him that was the kind of woman built for fuckin' and havin' kids. Wide hips, lotsa curves for a man to hold onto, full lips for sucking, an' moaning an' screaming. Merle had licked his lips watching Sarah like a predator watches prey. Course, when Merle tried his usual lines on her she laughed in his face an' told him to go back to screwin' his cousins.
Even when she's all beat up, he still thinks she's the sexiest woman he's ever seen. 'S ridiculous, an' he's kept that thought to himself forever and a day. Hell not even his brother knew. Nobody knew.
Been his stupid secret since she handed him a plate of food the second night after the camp set up. Their fingers brushed, she smiled at him an'… He'd never done a damn thing about it. Never said anythin' about it.
Not when they were on watch together. Not when he was tryin' to stop lookin' at her while she attempted to tame that curly mess of dark hair time an' time again. Not when she asked him to teach her to hunt. Didn't do a damn thing 'cause he was too damn scared to try.
"Where yeh been?" Her voice is softer now a little less pained.
Outside the sun is setting, the darkness creeping in with the twilight. He's chewing the inside of his cheek trying not to think about all the spots where she's touching him. She's hurt, he reminds himself, and we're prisoners. Keep it in your damn pants Dixon.
Shouldn't be too hard. Been doin' it for over a year.
He scrubs a hand over his face, "Was with Beth for a while."
"Don't see her," Sarah's brogue carries a hint of worry, and an unasked question.
Daryl shakes his head, "She's gone."
Her shoulders slump. She liked Beth, they were friends.
He flicks at the dirt on the ground, "You?"
Her fingers tighten on her pants, nails digging in. "Hank wanted the bus stopped so we could get our bearings. He pulled over. Some of us got out to talk, and to wait. To see if any of yeh were coming. Ah went with Theo to check the woods, see if any stragglers managed to get away. We weren't gone more than an hour but…" A deep painful breath followed by clenched teeth and a soft hiss. "Someone must have been shot. Or someone's heart gave out from all the craziness or something. Dunno really, but they turned. People got bitten. Everyone else had scattered by the time Theo and ah got back. Someone locked up the bus and left the people on it to die.
"After that, Theo and ah tried to stick together but he stopped caring. Talked about taking one to the head. Offered to off me and then himself. Told him to shut the hell up before ah kicked his ass. He walked off one night, left me alone. Haven't seen him since."
"Stupid son of a bitch," Daryl feels his lips draw back in a snarl. He's a little proud of her, being alone and still making it back to h-them. He's pissed Theo opted to check out.
"Aye, but don't worry. Yeh know me. Ah'm a survivor."
Hell yes she's a survivor. He's seen her scars though she's never seen his. Some of 'em are little burns in spots that woulda hurt like hell. They look like they could be the size of his mother's Virginia Slims. They're old, some of 'em are fading.
She doesn't talk about it. Never has.
"Thank yeh," she says, patting his knee. The knee lined up with her leg. He's taller, but not by much, a handful of inches if that. "Again. Fer teaching me to use a bow. Ah needed it."
Damn right she did. Woman couldn't shoot worth shit before.
The muscles of his right hand twitched in memory. He hadn't needed to put his hand on her to keep her shooting straight. Didn't mean he was dumb enough to pass up a chance to touch her though. He'd pressed his hand down on her hips, moving her stance and aim. Hell she let him. Drove him nuts too. Never jerked off so much in his life as he did afterward.
"Whatcha thinking about D?"
S' what she calls him. D or Dixon. Rarely by his name. He doesn't mind it, not at all. He tends to go a little crazy when she says his name with that brogue of hers. Her tongue trips over everythin' like lyrics to her own private song. It's distracting as hell.
Lotsa things about her are distracting.
Daryl shakes his head, "Nothin'."
"Liar," she says but doesn't push. She breathes out slow, taking an even slower breath in before talking again. "Yeh see those bones in the yard?"
A wave of disgust rolls through him, "Yeah, I saw 'em."
"Saw this movie with some friends before the world took a crap." She tells him the name of it, asks if he knows it.
He shakes his head, nah. Never had money to go to the movies.
She rolls one shoulder, going on. "Liked it enough, wasn't bad. Something about it always stuck with me because it was gross. Too much human meat makes yer hands shake. Looked it up, found out it was true which was even more scary." She held out her arm shaking it like she's got a tremor. "When that woman handed me that plate of meat, ah saw it. Just a little shake. Not anything ah would have thought about twice under normal circumstances. Would've just taken the plate and thanked her for the food. Tipped them off when ah refused. Told them ah had friends to check in with. Soon as ah made for the gate they opened fire."
She rubs her face wincing, "Guess ah shouldn't have called them cannibals to their faces, huh?"
His fingers flex, he'll teach whoever hit her a lesson they won't soon forget. When they get out of here. Maybe once he's done beatin' the living hell out of the person that did that to her, he'll grow the balls to ask her to be his. Or man up and kiss her final-fuckin'-ly. He's been a pussy about it and now look where the hell they are. Stuck in a train car, her beat up, waiting for fuckin' cannibals to come in and cook up their livers with beans an' sauce.
Daryl scrubs a hand over his face. Yeah. 'Cause that's gonna happen.
He's been tellin' himself for over a year now he wasn't worthy. She's too good to go for a redneck like him. To smart. She had a PhD or some shit like that. She'd punch him in the damn nose if he tried to kiss her. A friend, that's all he was gonna get and he'd been okay with that.
He is okay with that.
"Ah can hear yeh thinking Dixon, what's up with yeh?"
He finally looks at her, meeting her good eye. Too dark blue to be real, 'cept they are real and it bothers him he can't lean over and kiss that up turned nose of hers. Even if there is blood on her face. Her blood.
He pulls the rag from the back of his pants and hands it to her. "Face is a mess."
Her visible eye rolls, "My face isn't what's on yer mind hillbilly."
Not true. He looks away before she can read his expression. It'll be too dark soon for either of them to see one another. Better that way.
She takes the rag from him, wiping gently at her skin. "Yer thinking about something Dixon, what is it? Ah can hear those wheels churning in that dusty brain of yers."
"Not thinkin' 'bout anythin' woman."
"Liar," she says again.
He's scowling at her wantin' her to drop the damn subject, "You dunno when I'm lying or when I'm not."
She snorts, "Ah do so."
He calls bullshit on that. Says so too. Wipes the smirk off her face.
She sits up a little more, turning her body to face him. "Want proof, huh?"
"Yeah, prove it."
Sarah licks her split lower lip in the dark. Jesus. Shit. This might not have been a good idea. "Two truths and a lie. Give it a few minutes, and then spit it out. Ah'll tell yeh the lie."
Daryl doesn't need to think about the truths, they're easy enough. The lie though, that's harder. He rubs his thumb over his jaw, the scruff there is gonna get out of hand. He wonders if she likes kissin' men with beards. Then he remembers it doesn't matter and dismisses the idea.
"You've got a shitty singing voice," he says finally, "your clothes are too damn tight an' if we get out of here I'm gonna take you on a date."
The fuck did he just say?
A date?
He doesn't date. He never dated. He'd pick up a woman, they'd spend some time together an' then he an' his brother would move on. That was just fine by him before.
Jesus. Shit. What the hell is wrong with him?
She's quiet, but then so is the whole fuckin' train car. Did they all have to listen to that? He would be embarrassed but seeing as tomorrow they might die, he could live with it. He's still rubbing his beard, distracting himself because she's too fuckin' quiet. She's not dead, he can still hear her breathing, but she's silent. Absolutely god damn silent.
"Damn," Glenn says into the silence, "who was closest in the pool? I still had another month."
Pool? The fuck?
"I had it written down somewhere," Bob says, sounds like he's laughing. "But I think Tyreese was the closest. He said Daryl would wait until they were in a life or death situation. Think this counts."
What?
Beside him she's giggling, holding her side and covering her mouth and…well…giggling. "Ah said two truths and a lie dumbass," she tells him, "not two lies and a truth."
He did say two truths and a lie! She does have a shitty singing voice, but he doesn't mind it because it's her singing. Daryl's scowling at her, and everyone else, and hell the world. They might die tomorrow and he just opened his big damn mouth.
"S' not funny," he grinds out between clenched teeth. His whole face is burnin' with embarrassment. They were takin' bets on if he'd tell her or not? Why hadn't he heard about it?
"Little bit," she tells him. Her hand finds his in the dark, laces their fingers together. He lets her. "Took yeh long enough though. Thought ah was going to have to make the first move and damage yer manly ego."
His brain takes a minute to respond. Sarah's holdin' his hand. Her head touches his shoulder. They're gonna have to fight for their lives tomorrow and now this happens? If he had his crossbow he'd shoot somethin'. Probably himself. Or Bob the asshole still chuckling at the other end of the train car. Daryl breathes out slowly.
"Ya knew?" He's not asking them. He's asking her. It's hard for him to believe she knew and didn't mind. She knew and she wanted him too. He's still trying to wrap his damn head around it when she answers.
She looks up at him in the dark, and he swears he can see her watching him anyway. "Course ah knew yeh eejit." Her head tilts, "Now stop stallin' Daryl, and kiss a girl. If we're gonna die tomorrow, ah want to know ah got a kiss out of yeh."
Hell, who was he to refuse?
I liked the idea of Sarah having been there since the beginning, so that's what I wrote. Yes she's Irish, doing study abroad. For what? I dunno, didn't think about it.
I don't think I'll continue this. I'm supposed to be writing my Dragon Age: Origins story and it's 75k words (with all the unpublished stuff).
If I fucked up, please pm me so I can edit. I don't think I did, I proof read it twice but hey...yah never know.
With this story I have officially published more than 230k words with all my stories. Oh. My. God.
